Although I have yet to finish my list of 101 things to do in 1001 days, it's a work in progress. I have about 55 unedited goals at the moment, and I keep adding more as I think about it, and as I peruse Day Zero Project. But at least one of my goals consists of running a 10km race, which I have already signed up for. So I am in the midst of training for it.
I was never a runner. Ever. I was overweight by the time I was in grade 3, and track and field consisted of chatty walks with friends. I don't think I ever completed the 800m without walking part of it. Running just wasn't my style. Besides, fat people don't run.
About 3 years ago, I decided I wanted to try running as a means to lose weight. I tried a Couch to 5K podcast that started nice and easy, run 60 seconds, walk 90 seconds. I could handle that. But by week 3, I felt way out of my league. I started and stopped a few times but never really had a clear goal. One day I decided I wanted to run the length of one my favourite songs, 500 Miles by The Proclaimers (all 3 and a half minutes of it). I never quite got there. At least not that summer.
The following year, I decided to give it another try. I was hovering within a few pounds of 200, and I feared that like nothing else. The first time I went out, I pushed to 500m. And I worked from there. One day I even managed to run for 2.7 km. Not bad for someone who didn't run. I then went back to the Couch to 5K podcast. I spent about two weeks on each training week, but I didn't give up. I just kept on running those timed intervals and my goal was to run 5km by the end of the summer. Panic kicked in at the end of August though when I realized that although I was completing each podcast, my speed was much (much) slower than was apparently intended for the average runner, so although I was running 30-35 minutes, I was not covering 5km, not even close. I worried that my goal was no longer a possibility. But on the offical last weekend of summer (hey, until that calendar hit September 21, it was still technically summer and would still count!), I ran my first 5km. It took me just under an hour. I thought I would have felt beyond elated, but somehow I didn't feel much of anything. Somehow I just wasn't able to feel proud of myself.
I promptly stopped running after my 5k. Winter went by. Through all this, my weight varied, but by January 2010, I hit that dreaded number on the scale (it was only one day tho!!) Shortly thereafter I decided to take a beginner triathlon training course at the gym. It was 2 sessions a week, 3 hours each. It was crazy, it was intense, it was like nothing I'd ever done before. I thought the running part would be the hardest, but biking turned out to be my nemesis and I actually kind of enjoyed running. And on the day of the race last June, at 192 lbs, I finished the race (400 m swim, 10 km bike and 2.5 km run) in 1 hour 34 minutes; I came in dead last. Which made my victory of completion rather bittersweet. Yet again, I wasn't quite able to fully feel proud of myself. Learning to not compare myself to others is clearly a large hurdle for me.
I ran a bit over the summer, and joined a gym in August so I stayed fairly fit. By December I was down to 170 lbs. But Christmas hit, and 10 lbs came back on fairly easy. And running fell by the wayside. By the time spring came this year, I was still hovering around 180 lbs, and decided somewhat randomly that I was going to run a 10km race. Once I committed to it, I found some podcasts of interval training, printed off a schedule that led me up to race day (September 24th) and off I went. And today I just finished Week 3 of an 8km training program (the 10km training comes later!)
Bottom line, I've debunked two myths that I used to hold true. One, I was never a runner, never enjoyed running, therefore I never would. But I do. Do I LOVE going out for a run every single time? No. Do I have to force myself to do it some days? Absolutely. But do I always feel better afterwards? Definitely. One of my favourite quotes, one I came across not that long ago, is "I've never felt worse after a workout." And it is so true, and very motivational to do that workout when you just don't want to. The second self-created myth that I foiled is that overweight people can't run. I ran both my 5k and the triathlon at around 190 lbs. There's nothing much I can argue there.
I have to remind myself often that my accomplishments are in fact important and substantial and not to be brushed off. I easily told myself that the 5k was no big deal because I ran it so slow, and that completing the triathlon wasn't that impressive because I came last of 188 racers of all ages. What I often forget to tell myself is that I did it. I made a goal and I did it. The 5k took me an hour; so what? I ran for a solid hour! How many people can say that?? I came in last in the triathlon. But I did it! And I didn't stop, I didn't give up, I swam non-stop, I biked without a break, and I didn't walk a single step of the run. Not all of the people who finished before me can say those things, and even if they could, it shouldn't matter. I finished a triathlon! That's crazy! Me! And it bothers me that even now, knowing that I should be wowed by what I've acheived, I can still brush it off as nothing special or anything to be proud of. In fact, I tend to be embarassed when I tell people I did the triathlon, because I don't think bragging about coming last is that great, and if I don't mention how I placed, then I feel like I'm lying and taking credit for something that isn't real. People will ask me to run with them, and I try to avoid it, because I feel awkward and embarassed at the thought of being so painfully slow in comparison, and huffing and puffing and dripping with sweat while they casually stroll beside me. Running is a private thing for me, at least for now.
Anyway, the novella about my inability to accept my accomplishments aside, training is on track, and I am looking forward to completing my first real running race in September, and crossing off one of my 101 goals!
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